


꽃 (hold my breath until you call my name)

by radiantarrow



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Getting Back Together, Idols, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21779875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantarrow/pseuds/radiantarrow
Summary: Youngjae can’t pinpoint when it changed. He doesn’t know when Jaebeom's reassuring warmth cursing through his veins became hot enough to cause a wildfire — burning every flower that had ever bloomed in the garden that was his soul.Or: Youngjae thinks about a love (he thinks) he has lost.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73





	꽃 (hold my breath until you call my name)

**Author's Note:**

> this is loosely based on the song breath by 88rising!!!! It also refers to Youngjae's song 꽃 (Flower) and the songs jaebeom wrote for the latest GOT7 album!!  
> the style of this fic is similar to "accent" i think???? i finished writing this at 4am so like . u know. 
> 
> there's pretty much no actual speech ! head full too many thoughts (about jaebeom)

Soft hands used to leave a quiet buzz in their wake that made his insides come to life, spreading through fingertips into his very core, warming him up enough for flowers to bloom inside his body. 

(He had always thought that this expression was more fitting compared to insects that, once they had transformed into the most beautiful versions of themselves, would die within a span of mere weeks.)

Chapped, rough lips would brush over his eyelids, cheeks and lips, assuring him, paradoxically, in his own softness — both inside and out. A mouth dripping with words coated in honey had the ability to calm the rough edges of his thoughts, make him believe that a man-made scale and the pressures of the numbers it displays do not have the power to define his beauty. 

The weight of another body on his own would, if only for the time-being, make him forget the weight of the world on his shoulders. Entangled in his arms he would forget about the strings of problems whirring through his hectic brain.

Youngjae can’t pinpoint when it changed. He doesn’t know when the warmth he felt cursing through his veins became hot enough to cause a wildfire — burning every flower that had ever bloomed in the garden that was his soul. He guesses it makes sense then, that it was only a matter of time, until the honey crystallized and its sharp edges ended up contributing to the hurt inside. He understands now that their entangled arms did nothing more than tie more knots into the strings, binding them together and making it impossible for Youngjae to untie them now.

He remembers writing ‘Flower’, he remembers the giddy feeling that had been following him around for weeks, years ago, when whatever that they’d had just started to develop. He remembers writing about an innocent heart hidden behind a strong exterior, remembers promises of not letting each other go — he remembers every single feeling. It becomes that much harder, years later, to have a producer from the company point out the song, which Youngjae hadn’t brought over his heart to delete, as good, to have it suggested to him that he should sing it in Thailand. 

He knew it was not a good idea from the get-go, knew it would pour salt into his wound — especially because he had been planning on including ballads into his own setlist. He did it anyway, in a foolishly self-destructive attempt at getting a reaction out of him. Their eyes had met briefly when they all joined him on stage afterward, a small acknowledgement of days long passed, and in the next moment he reluctantly joined the rest of the members in poking fun at his performance of Trauma which, as they all knew, had never specifically about a person at all. 

(Something tells Youngjae that they wouldn’t have dared to make any sort of comment about it if they hadn’t known.)

___

They’re in a meeting, finalizing their tracklist for the next comeback and Youngjae is reminded of how unbearably hypocritical he finds Jaebeom. Their album is called ‘Call My Name’, and their title track is meant to convey the importance of one’s name — a title track Jaebeom worked on. 

The same Jaebeom that had pushed Youngjae away and reeled him back in whenever he had tried to specify their relationship slowly by dropping the honorific. Sometimes he would let Youngjae get away with it, Youngjae would receive smiles and grins in response, and sometimes he would see Jaebeom chewing on his lip, eyes downcast — not willing to address what was bothering him. 

The obvious references to flowers in ‘Pray’ make him feel an array of emotions, ranging from bittersweet happiness to angry betrayal. Mark had reluctantly told him, back when they first heard it in July, that it sounds like a response to ‘Flower’, asking for Youngjae to keep _‘holding him when he’s tired’_ , like he had promised to do in his own song. Youngjae had nodded, not daring to speak as he forced himself not to shed any more tears, and Mark had silently moved to hug him. Mark meets his eyes when the song starts playing next, Youngjae forces himself to smile a little.

The most infuriating of all the songs Jaebeom wrote for their album is Thursday. When Jaebeom had called them all to his hotel room in Madrid because he wanted to play them a song he had written, Youngjae had not expected himself to be the only person shocked at the lyrics. Judging by the way each one of them either had nervous expressions on their faces, couldn’t stop fiddling with their hands or kept bouncing their legs, they had all heard the song previously. 

They hadn’t met his eyes when saying how they liked the playful vibe of it and thought it would be a nice addition to the album to give it a positive twist. Youngjae had remained silent until Jaebeom had given him a look, expecting feedback (because no matter what, they were artists in a group and these songs would represent them all, in a way). Youngjae had merely said he agreed with the others, trying not to give Jaebeom the satisfaction of showing how affected he was.

Every time he hears the song he feels his blood boil — it had been _Jaebeom_ that had refused to label what they had, it had been _Jaebeom_ that started being distant, it had been _Jaebeom_ that would constantly pick fights and, most importantly, it had been Jaebeom that had told him, face impressively passive — Youngjae would have believed the act too, had it not been for the single vein visible on his throat — to bring whatever they had to an end, right in front of their members.

He hadn’t been kind enough to use those words, of course. He had instead told Youngjae to “Go fuck yourself from now on”, leaving Youngjae with his mouth agape in the dorm’s living room just days before their tour started. Jackson had screamed and shouted, banged his fists against Jaebeom’s door and thrown politeness out of the window, cussing to his heart’s desire — to no avail. 

Youngjae dragged Jackson back to their once shared room that night, hours later; he pushed their old beds, that the other’s still hadn’t gotten rid of, together and spent the night crying in Jackson’s arms. The reduction of everything they shared to nothing more than sex had been what had hurt the most.

Youngjae can feel his fingernails digging into the flesh of his hand as he remembers the night and feels all the frustration that he has been forcing so desperately to keep locked away bubbling up inside of him. Youngjae barely paid attention to the rest of the meeting in the first place, but when he hears the producers finalize that they would perform Thursday on music shows he decides to completely drown the rest of the meeting out.

___

He made it through most of the promotions without much of a problem, they kept interactions to a minimum at the few fansigns that they held, avoided each other in the waiting rooms unless they had to interact for organizational matters. That doesn’t mean, however, that he didn’t notice Jaebeom being unusually quiet, lost in his books more than he used to be. He told himself he doesn’t care, he has his own problems to deal with and feelings to work through after all, but no matter how much he tried to reason with his heart, it wouldn’t listen — he still cares more than he would like to, steals glances at him even though he’s trying not to.

It’s when he steals a glance at Jaebeom just as he is pulling his shirt over his head that he sees his chest marked with three specks of color, a mix of red and purple each of them. He’s not sure how Yugyeom caught him looking, doesn’t know how his expression is transparent enough for Yugyeom to immediately look over to Jaebeom just as he is pulling the white hoodie he wears for their Thursday stage over his head; all he knows is Yugyeom saw. 

Yugyeom first looks at Jaebeom, who is too busy fiddling with the snapback he is supposed to put on to notice the daggers the youngest of the group is shooting at him, then looks at Youngjae, smiles a sad smile, and gets up shouting Jinyoung’s name, angry footsteps echoing on the linoleum floor as he exits the dressing room. 

Youngjae is glad dancing to the songs has become an automatic reaction for his body — he can’t focus on their performance at all.

___

Everything that Youngjae had been suppressing for months catches up with him once he reaches his flat. He closes the door behind himself and sinks to his knees, eyes welling with tears as soon as he hears the door click shut. He feels his thoughts running a mile per minute, can feel his heart rate quickening and the warm tears streaming down his face, burning the buds of all the flowers that ever decorated his soul.

He knows he should have expected it, it has been more than half a year after all. He simply had pushed that thought away, leaving himself to deal with it once the time arrived. 

He can feel the heaviness inside his chest weighing him down, and it only reminds him of the weight of Jaebeom’s body on his own. It reminds him of their most intimate memories, of feeling full of love, feeling cherished and important; it reminds him of nights spent cuddling, arms and legs entangled, content; it reminds him of honey lips of his own, whispering praises against every inch of his body. His heart aches.

He faintly registers Coco climbing into his lap and whining, trying to lick at his hands. It brings a small smile on his face and she dashes off again — Youngjae doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry about that. She then comes walking back into the hallway, where Youngjae is still sitting with his back against the door, with her favorite toy tucked into her small snout. She is cute even when she looks ridiculous, and Youngjae finds it in himself to smile again. 

Once her small legs have carried her all the way back to Youngjae, she drops the toy into his lap, her tail wiggling. Youngjae laughs at her attempt at cheering him up and she yips happily at him. He bundles her up into his arms and walks over to his bedroom, choosing to wallow in self-pity in his bed. He finds a sad playlist and buries his head in his pillow, right next to Coco’s body.

He thinks for a long time; about his feelings, about their relationship — if it can be called that — and where they went wrong, thinks about his own mistakes as well as Jaebeom’s. He thinks their biggest mistake was not setting things straight, dancing around titles and what they are for so long that it caused both of them to be anxious about bringing it up after a certain point. 

Youngjae should have known that, at least for himself, this arrangement couldn’t have worked out. Youngjae likes labels, they give him a sense of security. And, more than anything, Youngjae is incredibly self-conscious. Jaebeom is attractive, Youngjae knows people have tried over and over again to score a date with him, and maybe being aware of that fact and not having an official reassurance that he is enough for Jaebeom was bound to lead to chaos from the start. 

The irrational feelings he harbored against Yoo Youngjae should’ve been indication enough. Yoo Youngjae is definitely more attractive than himself, he also is one of the few idols outside the group that Jaebeom is wholeheartedly comfortable with and he is the same age as Jaebeom, meaning that he doesn’t need to use honorifics. Yoo Youngjae was, to him at least, a better version of himself that enjoyed privileges he didn’t. 

Jaebeom had assured him, after a rather rough round of sex fueled by Youngjae’s jealousy, that Yoo Youngjae would be never be anything more than a friend, but that hadn’t been the core problem. The problem had been the uncertainty of their relationship. 

Thinking about his jealousy only reminds him of the hickeys splattered on Jaebeom’s chest, sending him into another wave of sobs. Under different circumstances Youngjae would probably not cry as much as he is right now, but not being able to escape Jaebeom, seeing him every single day and being reminded of their shared memories, makes it almost impossible for Youngjae to move on.

Youngjae realizes he’s scared of holding on to something Jaebeom has already left behind in his past. Youngjae realizes he is in love with Jaebeom.

He also realizes that he is scared of the world watching on as he struggles to find happiness again, as he struggles to evaluate himself fairly, as he struggles to find an ounce of love for himself in his own heart.

___  
He calls in sick the next day. The boys blow up the group chat first, wishing him well, then the five of them message him privately, asking him to talk to at least one of them. Jackson’s message in particular pierces him through the heart, in it he asks Youngjae to _at least talk to you your Woojeong hyung if you feel like you can’t talk to us about it_. Youngjae replies that he shouldn’t be silly and that he sees no difference between Woojeong and any of them, they are as much his brother as he is. Jackson sends back approximately 45 hearts, Youngjae smiles.

___

Youngjae doesn’t know what to feel when he sees Jaebeom’s story on Instagram. I want to be happy it reads, and Youngjae thinks it’s not fair. Jaebeom knows what he’s doing, dropping subtle hints that only Youngjae would be able to pick up on. 

It’s a picture of a ceiling, and Youngjae vividly remembers Jaebeom talking to him on the phone early this year, during his and Yugyeom’s showcase tour, he remembers Jaebeom whispering _“I can’t stop seeing your face on all these ceilings, I can’t sleep without you next to me”_ into the microphone, he remembers thinking a garden full of roses must’ve bloomed inside his body, right where his heart is.

It’s not fair because Jaebeom pretends he’s hurting when the hickeys splattered across his chest are a clear indication that he has obviously found a replacement for Youngjae already.

___

“Youngjae-yah,” Jaebeom calls, sitting on the floor halfway across the practice room. Youngjae freezes immediately, it’s a nickname that Jaebeom hasn’t called him since June, and it brings back a flood of memories that Youngjae can’t suppress. 

He thinks about the fond nickname being used to wake him up in the mornings while Jaebeom brushes a hand through his blue hair; he thinks about Jaebeom calling him his sky and his universe upon seeing his freshly dyed hair; he thinks about Jaebeom repeating the nickname like a prayer with his face scrunched up in pleasure; he thinks about Jaebeom giggling, asking him to stop tickling him; he thinks about Jaebeom seeing him in his stage clothes for 1°, a week before the tour, four days before they ended whatever it was that they had, with a hand around Youngjae’s waist and a small blush gracing his cheeks, whispering _Youngjae-yah you look so pretty in this_ , honey dripping from his lips.

“Youngjae-yah,” he repeats, “can you come here for a second?”. Youngjae finally unfreezes and gulps down the water he was drinking before his legs move on their own accord. Jaebeom stands up as he is walking over, looking at his phone. He must have been monitoring the dance they are practicing for KBS’ year-end awards. 

His suspicions are confirmed when Jaebeom opens up a video and shows him a part where his and Bambam’s moves aren’t synced properly, but Youngjae can barely focus. They haven’t been this close in what feels like years and he feels like he looks awkward even just standing there. 

Youngjae belatedly realizes that Jaebeom had been talking to him and is now expecting an answer to a question he didn’t hear — Jaebeom looks up through his eyelashes when Youngjae doesn’t reply. 

Youngjae looks back at him and curses Jaebeom’s parents for making him so incredibly hard to look away from. His hair has grown out a lot and the few strands of hair that have managed to escape the hair tie he is using to keep them away from his face frame it beautifully. 

“I-“ Youngjae starts when he realizes he has been staring for way too long, but Jaebeom interrupts him. It’s only a small whisper, Youngjae probably wouldn’t have been able to catch it if he wasn’t so close, but he doesn’t miss the quiet “Youngjae-yah” that leaves Jaebeom’s lips.

Jaebeom looks between Youngjae’s eyes and his lips, and Youngjae’s brain is screaming at him to pull away before he ends up even more hurt than he already is; but Youngjae’s heart doesn’t have a semblance of self-preservation skills, so Youngjae stays rooted in his spot.

Jaebeom visibly gulps, “If you hate me after this, please tell me,” he whispers again, and before Youngjae’s mind can even process the quiet words, he feels Jaebeom’s chapped lips on his own.

He feels a lot of things; surprise, confusion, anger and bliss all at once, but more than any of them he feels the longing. The kiss they share conveys months of frustration and anger, of sadness and hurt. The feeling of Jaebeom’s lips is familiar and yet so foreign, sweet and yet so rushed, Youngjae can’t help but chase after them. 

One of Jaebeom’s hands travels up to Youngjae’s face, touching his jaw softly, while the other rests on his waist. Youngjae’s hand fits its spot on Jaebeom’s chest, gripping his shirt, while the other one touches the now long hair on his nape. They kiss until they’re breathless, and Youngjae dreads the moment they pull apart because he still can’t make sense of Jaebeom’s previous words. When Jaebeom breaks the kiss fist, his forehead resting against Youngjae’s with his eyes closed. They’re breathing heavily, both reluctant to say anything.

“I fucked up,” Jaebeom sighs, speaking quietly, and Youngjae can feel his heart drop at the words. He’s willing himself not to cry, biting the inside of his cheek and clenching his jaw. “I fucked up so badly, Jae.” 

Youngjae’s mind is working in overdrive, trying to understand what Jaebeom wants to tell him. Scared that speaking any louder will ruin the first proper conversation they have had in weeks, he whispers “Hyung,” when he thinks he’ll go insane trying to make sense of Jaebeom’s words, “what do you mean?”

Jaebeom leans back to look at Youngjae properly. “I mean that I fucked up. I fucked up by pushing you away, I fucked up by not listening to your words, your actions. I fucked up by not talking to you properly, I fucked up by letting stress get to my head and I fucked up by taking it out on you.” 

Youngjae stares, he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Youngjae-yah,” Jaebeom starts up again, looking into his eyes again “I just want to say I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I certainly don’t expect you to forget about it all. I just want you to know I’m sorry — for all of it. Including this just now, I shouldn’t have kissed you knowing that it’s probably the last thing you need right now.”

“It may not be what I need, but it’s all I want.” Youngjae says back. 

Jaebeom grins at him foolishly, and Youngjae can’t stop the smile from spreading over his own face. They’re about to kiss again when the door to the room opens and Jackson peaks his head in; Youngjae hadn’t even realized that the others left the room. After Jackson sees their faces just centimeters from each other’s, he smiles hopefully “Please tell me you’re going to work it out?” he asks, making Jaebeom and Youngjae smile. 

They have a lot to talk about, but for now they are happy.

____

“No, no, no, no, no, no, listen Jackson hyung,” Youngjae says between giggles, resting his back against the foot of the couch, fanning himself because dancing in late spring is never fun, but especially less so if the air conditioner is broken, “it’s different! Couples in Korea don’t use honorifics with each other.”

“Bullshit, Youngjae!” Jackson whines, “You have a two _year_ age gap! I’m two _months_ younger than he is and he’d beat my ass if I said ‘Jaebeommie’ to him.”

Jaebeom laughs from where he’s sitting on the couch, Youngjae sitting between his legs on the ground, “I would.”

Youngjae turns his head upwards, smiling goofily, “Being Jaebeommie’s boyfriend sure has its perks.” 

Jaebeom leans down to kiss him, first on the forehead, then on the tip of his nose, and finally on the lips — Jaebeom tastes like honey and smells like roses.

**Author's Note:**

> Jaebeom calling Youngjae "Youngjae-yah" or "Jae".. we love to see it !


End file.
